


Trust

by DaveighMustaine



Category: Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Romance, Complicated Relationships, Doomed Relationship, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Romance, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Tour Bus, Tour life, complicated romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaveighMustaine/pseuds/DaveighMustaine
Summary: Going to school in the City of Angels  was a dream come true for a young, ballsy, headstrong Midwestern girl. During her final year of college she meets a snarky and talented young man who, although incredibly enticing could lead to a downward spiral of trouble for her."Tears filled my eyesAs we said our last goodbyesThis sad scene replaysOf you walking away"~Megadeth, Trust
Relationships: Dave Mustaine/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

"Nic! Hey, Nic, we're gonna be late!" I heard my roommate call to me from the kitchen of our apartment.  
  
It was Friday night in the City of Angels and we were two college girls ready to unwind for a fun night out. My roommate's name was Holly. I had met Holly our freshman year of college. She was originally from Montreal but her family relocated to Oregon when she was fourteen years old. She mostly spoke English, but her first language was French and she had a unique accent. When she got mad, she'd immediately revert back to French for a good tongue lashing to whomever (or in some cases whatever) pissed her off. He had short, honey blonde hair with a soft heart-shaped face and feline eyes. She could pull off the short hair while still looking feminine. I could never do that.  
  
My hair was long and red and I had pasty white skin. I didn't tan, I just burned, so I kind of stuck out like a sore thumb when we would head out to the beach on weekends. I was originally from the Midwest. Des Moines, Iowa would always be home to me. Yes, there's more to Iowa than a bunch of corn fields. Moving out west was a bit of a culture shock for me. I didn't know how Holly did it. First, she moved to an entirely different country. Then, a couple of years later, she moved to another state for college. I'm guessing it helped that she had an adventurous spirit to her. A free spirit who liked to grab life by the balls.  
  
Not that I was doing too bad for myself. I adapted. My first few months of my freshman year of college were kind of rough, though. I pretty much holed myself up in my dorm room while I wasn't in class and wondered to myself what the hell I was thinking going to school so far away from my family and everyone I ever knew. But one day when I was getting on the elevator to go to class Holly got on too. I had noticed that she and I had a few classes together but we had never walked to each other. But that day she turned to me and said, "How about we grab a coffee on our way to class?"Just like that. That's the kind of person she is. Open and outgoing. Me on the other hand? Well, I kinda liked to think of myself as the strong, silent type. Some people mistake me for being shy, but I don't really agree with that. It's not that I'm shy...I just can't stand making small talk. I find it stupid and wasteful. What's the point? If you're gonna say something, have a fucking point, right? But, I digress.  
  
Anyway, after becoming best friends our first year of college we made sure to stay in the same dorm together the following year. Then when our junior year came by we decided to get our first "big girl" apartment together. It wasn't much, but it was what we could afford. The plumbing worked, at least. The carpet probably should have been replaced about five years earlier and was wearing where the edges met the walls and the paint...well, it wasn't too bad, actually, because we snuck and painted it ourselves because we got tired of looking at the ugly, yellowing, spotty walls. Neither of us had ever actually painted before, but we did our best and though it looked. It definitely wasn't worse than how it looked before. After we were done with it, it was a nice soft blue color, kind of like a robin's egg. Once we hung up some pictures and posters, you could hardly see the flaws in our paint job. The appliances on the other hand...well, let's just say we usually opted to order take out for dinner most of the time.  
  
But again it was what we could afford and it was nice to be independent women living off campus. And, we aren't too far from the strip, which is where we were heading that tonight. Holly knew the doorman of The Whisky who'd let us slide in for free without carding us. It was nice to have connections like that.  
  
I came out of my room with my hair falling in its natural waves. I was wearing an off shoulder black top with a pair of jeans and black Doc Martens. Holly was dressed more feminine than I was, wearing a classic little black dress and heels. She could look so chic with minimal effort. Me, on the other hand, I had to work overtime to not clomp around awkwardly everywhere I went. Yeah, maybe a different type of shoe wear would have helped, but I liked my Docs.  
  
Also, I liked to know I could kick a guy's ass if I needed to while wearing those boots. And in LA...you never knew when you might need to.  
  
I was a black belt in a style of martial arts called Tang Soo Do. It's a Korean martial art, lesser known than its cousin Tae Kwon Do. Let's just say I had a bit of a bad Irish temper growing up and my parents and school counselor decided that it might be a good idea to take up a hobby to channel some of my energy. Martial arts it was for me. I was glad too, so then I really could kick someone's ass if I needed too.  
  
Heh. Just kidding.  
  
Sorta.  
  
It's kinda funny, though. Most guys I'd meet would think it was hot that I knew martial arts at first. But then they'll get all macho and insecure about it. One time I was on a date with a guy, and he ended up challenging me to an arm wrestling competition...and he was being serious about it. It's one thing to joke around, I have a pretty good sense of humor I think, but this guy was dead serious. So, I excused myself to the bathroom and made a bee line for the door. No thanks. Next.  
  
Honestly, I wasn't too worried about dating anyway. I really just wanted to have fun while I was young enough to do it. I mean, I figured someday I'll be tied down and stuck with some guy that I was going to slowly end up resenting over the years and I just wasn't in a big hurry to do that. So sue me.  
  
So Holly and I headed on out to the strip. It was only a couple of blocks away. I didn't know how Holly could hoof it in those heels she was wearing, but she managed like wearing six-inch stilettos is the most natural thing in the world.  
  
I always joked that if anyone ever saw me in heels that they should run for the hills because it would mean that I had been body snatched and abducted by aliens.  
  
It was a busy night under the neon lights of the strip. We maneuvered our way through the crowd as we headed on over to The Whisky. We could hear the music playing as we approached the building. It sounded...different. I could tell it wasn't Motley Crue, anyway. As we neared the entrance, I looked at the sign and saw the name of a band I had never heard of before. Some band called Metallica. I shrugged as we headed to the entrance where Rob Halford was working. Okay, he wasn't really Rob Halford, but I swear he could've been his twin he looked so much like him. Either way, Holly knew him, and he lets us slide on it without carding us or paying a fee.  
  
Once we were inside we began to make our ways up to the stage to check out this new band we had never heard of.  
  
Metallica. Hmmm. I wondered to myself if they'd be big.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm not even sure how to describe the experience of seeing Metallica live for the first time, but I will say I had never seen anything quite like it before in my life, and I had been to quite a few shows in my time. Holly and I were both pretty big music fans. One of the perks of living so close to the Sunset Strip was being able to see so many up-and-coming rock bands. We had seen Motley Crue several times, as well as bands like Poison and Cinderella. You know...bands where the guys wore more make-up and hair spray than the girls they were trying to attract? But these guys....they were different. They were raw, they were fast, and they were heavy.

And I liked it heavy.

I craned my neck up to see the stage with a grin on my face. What was this thing before me? It was like... some kind of monster. Holly wasn't quite as impressed as I was. She was more into the pretty boy types and these guys...well, they were pretty in their own ways, but there was a certain gruffness about them. They were rough around the edges...in a good way. I maneuvered my way through the crowd, slinking my way as close to the stage as I could get. I was watching the blonde front man as he sang into the microphone while playing his guitar. I was trying to hear his words. It was like the sound equipment couldn't keep up with them, but I was absolutely mesmerized by what I was seeing.

I managed to make my way up to the stage. I don't even know how. The crowd was packed tight, but I managed. I had lost Holly, but it wasn't the first time that had happened. We would always find each other again. I had my eyes fixated on the blond when a movement caught my eye and my attention was diverted to someone standing before me. He was a lanky boy with curly red hair. He had a guitar hoisted on his shoulder and he ripped into an ear piercing solo right in front of me. I gawked as I watched his fingers move along the string of the guitar at an impossibly fast speed.

How did he make his fingers move so fast?

He inhaled and lost himself in the moment as his solo came to an end and then he opened his eyes and he looked down. His eyes met mine. A smirk appeared upon his face as he looked at me.

Was I still gawking?

He continued on with the song as the band played on. He stood right before me, but he looked away as he played, his arms flexing as the moved along the neck and body of the guitar. He would glance over at the singer and then around the crowd, as they continued to play on.

His playing. I had never seen anything like it.

As the song came to a close he glanced at me again. His smirk reappeared on his lips and he gave a wink before he raised his hand and aimed and tossed something to me. Instinctively I reached up and managed to grab the object, clapping both my hands together. Even though the guys around me tried to beat me to it, he had good aim and it came right to me. I clutched the object in my hands and as the people around settled down I opened my palms to see his guitar pick.

I looked back him with a smile as he gave me a nod and another smirk as he retrieved another pick from his pocket. I bit my lip as I watched him turn away and strummed his guitar, a distorted ripping sound coming from the amps on the stage.

I stood there up at the front of the stage watching the show with a big smile even though the crowd became increasing rowdy and aggressive. I stood firm where I was for as long as I could so I could watch but soon realized, even though I was pretty tough and could hold my own, I was liable to get crushed up against the stage. I stole one last glance at the red haired guitarist before I began to force my way back out the crowd. I was making my way through when I was startled by the sudden sensation of cold liquid pouring down my chest. My shirt stuck to me as I gasped out. I looked bewilderedly at the culprit.

Now, I get it, shit happens at concerts. Spilled beer happens. It had happened to me before, and I was sure it would happen again. That's just what happens, especially when you're in a small, standing room only club.

This, however, was intentional.

Some frat boy looking type wearing who was a polo shirt had a shit eating grin on his face as he laughed, proud of himself. Yeah, get a girl's shirt wet. Great way to try and see some tits, right?

What the hell that dweeb doing at The Whiskey anyway? He certainly didn't seem like the rocker type.

And wasn't even wearing a white shirt! What the hell was this guy thinking? I'd strip my top off for everyone to see? Uh, no. Thanks for playing.

I narrowed my eyes at him. His stupid ass grin was getting on my nerves as he laughed with his buddies at his job well done like he was the first guy in the world clever enough to pull a stunt like that.

So I decked him.

You know that spot just below your nose where the top of your teeth are? It hurts like a bitch to get hit right there, especially by someone who really knows how to throw a punch. I'd seen a lot of bar fights and brawls in my time, and usually they'd pretty funny for me to watch because more often than not the guys don't even know how to fight (or they'd too drunk to remember how). The fists they throw would usually expend way too much energy, and they'd be more likely to hurt themselves rather than the person they were trying to fight, by using their muscles and body mechanics incorrectly.

I, however, knew how to throw a punch.

Down the guy went, he didn't even know what hit him. His buddies were shocked. I smirked before I slithered my way back through the crowd. My knuckles felt it but they weren't broken 'cause I know how to hit. Like I said, I could kick someone's ass if I wanted to.

That didn't mean I went looking for trouble. I was sure that guy's friends were gonna want a word with me. Or maybe if security saw they might have something to say to me. Either way I knew I better beat it outta there.

I shouldered my way through the crowd and spotted Holly. I grabbed her by the hand and yelled, "We gotta go!"

"What?" She called back, "Why?"

"I just punched a guy!" I responded with a shrug and an apologetic smile.

"Again?!" Holly shouted in disbelief.

I smiled back at her and lead her out the Whiskey and back into the night of the Sunset strip.

"Vous petit idiot," Holly hisses through her teeth at me as we walked up the strip, "Do you need ice?"

It wasn't the first time she called me a little idiot. You might even say it was her pet-name for me.

"Nah, I've done worse," I said with a grin shaking out my hand. It'd be bruised the next day and I probably should've gotten some ice on it, but I was a bit on the stubborn side. She cursed under her breath at me again in French and I grinned, "What? The dude spilled beer on me!"

"Nic..."

"On purpose!" I insisted, "He had it coming!"

"What am I going to do with you?" Holly asked with a roll of her eyes.

We made our ways over to the Rainbow, which was pretty packed. Normally I preferred little hole in the wall type bars, but a lot of musicians would come to the Rainbow, famous ones, too, which was always fun to see. I even met Alice Cooper once when I was trying to find the bathroom and he was kind enough to direct me.

Great guy!

Holly and I shouldered our ways up to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks. Beer for me and some kind of pink cocktail for her. She eyed me and said, "I'm going to the bathroom. Try and stay out of trouble, little idiot!"

I smile and shrugged at her. Can't make any promises. I don't start fights, but I do finish them. 


	3. Chapter 3

About an hour passed when I found myself with Holly hanging out in the outside area of the Rainbow with a few paper towels wrapped around some ice pressed against the knuckles of my hand. Yeah, I caved. Maybe I had done a little more damage than I thought. Nothing to write home about or go to the emergency room over, I could still move my fingers and all that, but the swelling was becoming more obvious and I could see my fair skin darken where it was starting to bruise. I definitely needed to take some Tylenol as soon as I got home.

Either way, Holly and I managed to perk up and enjoy ourselves at the Rainbow, despite my little encounter at the Whiskey. It was just as well. Even though I was digging Metallica's fast, aggressive sound, it wasn't really Holly's cup of tea. She was more into Def Leppard and Poison. Def Leppard I could get into, but Poison wasn't really for me. And we both liked Motley Crue well enough. But Metallica? That was something else. Fast, aggressive...I mean I like Iron Maiden and Judas Priest but Metallica was on a whole 'nother level! Part of me was itching to hear more. Too bad that frat boy in his stupid polo shirt had to come in and ruin my fun having. I hope I knocked some sense into him but I doubt it.

And then there was that guitarist...the one with the red hair...a few shades lighter than mine, but curly. Not like Shirley Temple curly, but big, soft, luscious curls...and his lanky, yet toned body. He had been wearing a pair of jeans with an open leather vest. The way he played his guitar it was so...so effortless. Like the chords and notes just came so naturally to him he didn't even have to think about them. I mean, I'm sure they've practiced and rehearsed....they'd have to in order to sound like that. But he just made it look so easy and there was something so intriguing about it...and erotic.

I found the bottom of my beer bottle as smiled a private smile thinking about him. I had no idea who he was but I was sure he'd be joining me in my thoughts later that night when I got home. I turned to Holly and asked, "Need another drink?"

She looked down at her empty cocktail glass and gave me a nod, "Appears that way."

"Alright, I'll by this round," I said as I took her glass from her.

That was usually how we did it, taking turns buying each other's drinks. That way we both didn't have to try and muscle our ways up to the bar. I shouldered my way through the crowd and squeezed into the corner of the bar. I set the wet paper towel down onto the bar, the ice had mostly melted by that point, along with our drink glasses and leaned forward to try and make eye contact with the brunette bartender. I then felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I felt someone lean close to me.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?" A gruff voice rang in my ear and I felt my nose start to scrunch from the scent of alcohol on his breath.

Was he fucking kidding me with that line?

I took a breath and forced as polite of a smile as I could muster as I turned to him. He was probably in his mid-thirties. Grey haired peppered his otherwise dark brown hair. He had a square jaw that hadn't seen the edge of a razorblade in a couple of days. He wasn't bad looking to be honest, but a line like that was an automatic turn off. Besides, he was too old for me and clearly drunk. Don't get me wrong, like to throw back a few beers and have a good time, but by the glazed look in his eyes I could tell he had more than a few.

"Hi," I simply said to him. I could feel my cheeks strain as I forced my smile before turning back to face forward to make eye contact with the bartender.

"How 'bout next one's on me?" The guy asked as he tried to lean closer to me. My body tensed up and I squared my jaw, my senses alert. As long as he didn't try to touch me I'd be fine. I had already been in one fight that night (well, sorta), I didn't need another. "C'mon, you're the best lookin' thing in this bar. Lemme buy you a drink."

I let out a breath and turned to him, a smile still plastered on my face, "I don't think so, man. I'm getting something for me and my girlfriend and-"

"Girlfriend, huh? Well, she as hot as you? Mind if a join ya? Or I could always just sit back and watch," He slurred with a shit eating grin on his face.

Never mind anything I said about possibly finding him attractive. I couldn't hide my disgust any more.

"Dude, no. It's not like that, and even if it were-" I said as I turned away from him, a sneer on my lips. Then I felt him grab my arm. He wasn't rough about him but I turned to him indignantly, my eyes meeting his as I hissed out a warning, "Let go of my arm."

"Aww, c'mon, lighten up! I'm just tryin' to show you a good time," He said as he tried to pull me closer to him, but I kept my feet firmly and squarely planted in the ground so I wouldn't budge.

"Let go," I said, my voice raised and my tone stern. He was lucky I was giving him as many chances as I was. I debated whether an arm bar across his neck or slamming his head into the bar would be more effective. Before I could decide we were interrupted.

"There you are," A voice said as someone walked up to us as and slung their arm around my shoulder. What the hell was it about tonight that every slimy dude that came within a five foot radius of me decided they could make a move on me? My eyes flashed to the owner of the voice and I felt my lips part in both disbelief and amusement.

It was the redheaded guitarist of Metallica.

"I was wondering where you ran off to," He said giving me a smirk and a wink before he looked down at the guys hand on my arm and looked at the guy, "Hey, mind taking your hand off my girl?"

The guy blinked at him for a moment before he said, "She said she was here with her girlfriend."

The guitarist didn't miss a beat. He flipped his red curls and puckered his lips, "Stunning, aren't I? Now get your mitts off of her. I'm not going to ask again."

The older guy then released his hand from my arm and I jerked it back glaring at him as he muttered, "Whatever."

The guitarist then turned to me and gave me a cheeky grin before he asked, "You okay, baby?"

I raised my eyebrow at him but then he gave me another reassuring wink indicating for me to play along. I felt the corner of my lips curl into a genuinely amused smirk before I responded, "Fine, babe."

He gave me a grin before he turned to face the bartender who immediately turned her attention to him, "Lemme have a beer and anything she wants."

The bartender's blue eyes flashed to me, "Same thing?"

I gave her a nod. As soon as she brought us out drinks the guitarist and I walked out together, his arm still slung loosely around my shoulders, which left me feeling conflicted. Normally I wouldn't like a guy hanging on me light that, but on the other hand he was so gorgeous I didn't really mind. We stepped out onto the patio of the Rainbow and I turned to him, "You know, I could've handled myself."

"I don't doubt that all," He said with a grin, he retracted his arm from me as if he had sensed that I had been feeling uncomfortable. But, then again...part of me wasn't really.

"Okay, well, as long as we've got that straight," I said with a laugh, "I'm Nic....you're a helluva guitarist."

"Dave," He responded as he raised his beer bottle towards me before taking a swig, "You've got a helluva right hook."

I raised a brow at him for a moment before my eyes widened. I would have brought a hand to my mouth in embarrassment, but I was carrying both Holly and my drinks, "Oh shit, you saw that?"

"Hell yeah," Dave let out a laugh, "I think I had the best view in the whole venue! What'd the guy do to you anyways?"

"Uh," I said before looking down at my black shirt. It had since dried but it still smelled like old beer, "He spilled beer on me."

Dave glanced at my shirt before his hazel eyes met mine again, "Shit. I mean...what was he expecting? You aren't even wearing a white shirt."

"Cause that would make it okay?" I asked, challenging him defensively.

"I didn't mean it like that," Dave explained with a roll of his yes, "I just mean...how stupid could he have been? First to dump a drink on a girl, but then also to dump it on one wearing a solid colored shirt? I mean...that's like extra special level of stupid."

I felt the corner of my lips pull up in a smirk and I gave a shrug, "I don't know. Maybe."

Dave then glanced down and nodded at my hands, "You double fisting tonight?"

I looked down, "No, I'm here with my friend."

"Oh yeah, your girlfriend," Dave gave a laugh, "I forgot. You see her?"

I craned my neck before I spotted her over by the gate of the patio talking to some guy. I gave a nod, "Yeah, over there." I then turned to him and peered into his hazel eyes, "You want to join us?"

"Absolutely," He said with a smirk, "Gotta protect my girl."

"Hey now," I shot him a glare, "I told you I don't need to be protected and I am definitely not your girl-"

"Hey tigress," Dave responded holding his free hand up as he shot me another grin, "I was just teasing. But tell me, where'd you learn to punch like that, anyway?"

"Oh," I said as we continued to maneuver through the crowded patio, "I'm a martial artist."

"No kidding," Dave responded, "Me too. What style?"

"Tang Soo Do," I said as I glanced at him, "It a Korean martial art."

"Ah," Dave nodded, "I do Tae Kwon Do."

My interest was piqued and I wanted to ask him more about his background in martial arts but at that point we had reached the edge of the of the patio. Holly was leaning against the fence of the patio as we approached. Her feline eyes met mine met mine and she let out a sigh of relief, "There you are. I thought you got lost or into another fight."

"Heh, almost," I said with a sheepish grin and a shrug of my shoulders.

She rolled her eyes before they fell on Dave. She smirked as she grinned, "I see you made a new friend."

"Eh, he just followed me out here like a lost puppy," I smirked as I glanced at Dave.

He glared back at me facetiously before he turned to Holly, "Hi, I'm Dave."

"Dave," She nodded, before she narrowed her eyes at him trying to place his familiar lanky form before they widened as she made the connection, "Hey...weren't you just playing guitar over at The Whiskey?"

"Sure was," Dave said giving her a cheeky grin. I could tell he loved the attention. Somehow it was both annoying and endearing at the same time.

"I knew I recognized you," She smiled, her entire heart-shaped face glowing as she did, "We had to leave early because of this one." Holly jerked her head towards me as I gave an innocent smile.

"So I heard," Dave laughed and winked at me.

Holly began to ramble on about how I'm her favorite little idiot that always finds a way to fuck things up. Dave continued to shoot me amused looks as he took swigs from his beer and nodded at her ramblings. Sometimes she wouldn't even notice as she would slip back into French. Dave would then look at me incredulously before turning back to her to smile and nod along with her story. I was seriously considering hopping the fence to see if she would even notice I'd left before we were interrupted.

"Dave, man, fuck this place and their prices. Let's go get a pizza," A voice said behind us. I glanced up at the lumbering figure that owned the voice and recognized him as the lead singer and rhythm guitarist of Metallica. He was tall, lean, but toned, not unlike Dave. However his skin was kissed with a tan and his hair fell in natural blonde waves.

"James," Dave said with a smirk, "Have you met Nic and..." Dave then turned to Holly, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Holly," She and I both responded in unison.

"Holly," Dave nodded before turning to James.

James glanced at me and Holly, "Hey."

He was a man of few words, apparently.

"C'mon, Lars and Ron wanna get some pizza," James said turning to Dave.

Dave's eyes locked with mine briefly before looking back at his bandmate, "Just...give me a few minutes. I'm kinda thinking about...another p-word right now."

James gave a nod as he then seemed to disappear into the crowd of the patio. Holly began rambling again but Dave didn't pay her any mind as he stepped closer to me.

"Nic...you wanna go for some pizza?" Dave asked me with a smirk.

On one hand I could definitely eat and I couldn't help but feel intrigued by the guy. On the other hand I was wary. Even though he was charming in his own way, there was a certain mischief in his eye I couldn't deny.

"Pussy, right?" I said with a raise of my eyebrow.

Dave eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at me, "What?"

"That's the p-word you're thinking about. Pussy. Am I right?" I asked as I folded my arms across my chest and squared my jaw.

"I mean...I'm a guy so..." Dave smiled with a shrug of his shoulders.

"So it's okay for you to be crude?" I asked before I turned to Holly who was watching us baffled. I'm not sure when she stopped rambling but in any other instance the look on her face would have been comical.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that," Dave said with a laugh, "I mean....unless you want to take me home with you that is."

"Get lost, creepo," I waved at him indignantly.

Dave his out a sigh through his teeth before he asked, "Well, can I call you?"

"Sure," I said shooting him a fake smile, "I'm listed."

"I don't know your last name," Dave responded.

"Yep. So good luck," I responded before I turned my back to him, arms still folded.

Dave sighed out again with a subtle shake of his head before he respond, "I didn't mean it." I didn't respond to him, "Okay, well, I hope I see you ladies out again soon."

My eyes met Holly's as she watch beyond my shoulder. After a moment she gave me a nod, "Okay, he'd gone. What the hell happened?"

"Just a night of slimy jerks, I guess," I said with a shrug. I glanced over my shoulder scanning the crowd on the patio for his mane of curly red hair, to no avail. I couldn't figure out why I felt a pang of disappointment. What a cad. Schmoozing up to me just to try and get into my pants? What nerve. I turned back to Holly, "How 'bout we finish these and head back to the apartment? I'll make my infamous Mac and Cheese?" By infamous I meant literally right out of the blue Kraft box.

"I can hardly wait," Holly responded with a snort as she sipped her cocktail. 


End file.
